r all, 'tis but just the wrong Mrs. Nutter should give place to the
right; and if you go down to the Mills to-morrow, you'll find she's by
no means so bad as you think her.'

But Toole broke away from him sulkily, with--

'I wish you a good-morning, Sir.'

It was quite true that Sally Nutter was to hear from Charles and Mr.
Gamble that morning; for about the time at which Toole was in conference
with those two gentlemen in Dublin, two coaches drew up at the Mills.

Mr. Gamble's conducting gentleman was in one, and two mysterious
personages sat in the other.

'I want to see Mrs. Nutter,' said Mr. Gamble's emissary.

'Mrs. Nutter's in the parlour, at your service,' answered the lean maid
who had opened the door, and who recognising in that gentleman an
adherent of the enemy, had assumed her most impertinent leer and tone on
the instant.

The ambassador looked in and drew back.

'Oh, then, 'tisn't the mistress you want, but the master's old
housekeeper; ask _her_.'

And she pointed with her thumb towards Molly, whose head was over the
banister.

So, as he followed that honest hand-maiden up stairs, he drew from his
coat-pocket a bundle of papers, and glanced at their endorsements, for
he had a long exposition to make, and then some important measures to
execute.

Toole had to make up for lost time; and as he rode at a smart canter
into the village, he fancied he observed the signs of an unusual
excitement there. There were some faces at the windows, some people on
the door-steps; and a few groups in the street; they were all looking in
the Dublin direction. He had a nod or two as he passed. Toole thought
forthwith of Mr. David O'Reegan--people generally refer phenomena to
what most concerns themselves--and a dim horror of some unknown summary
process dismayed him; but his hall-door shone peaceably in the sun, and
his boy stood whistling on the steps, with his hands in his pockets.
Nobody had been there since, and Pell had not yet called at Sturk's.

'And what's happened--what's the neighbours lookin' after?' said Toole,
as his own glance followed the general direction, so soon as he had
dismounted.

''Twas a coach that had driven through the town, at a thundering pace,
with some men inside, from the Knockmaroon direction, and a lady that
was screeching. She broke one of the coach windows in Martin's-row, and
the other--_there_, just opposite the Phoenix.' The glass was
glittering on the road. 'She had ring